


Everything Has Changed

by BrightneeBee



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. Compliant, Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Medical Conditions, Mental Breakdown, Nerdiness, Oblivious, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Tension, lost girl - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-02-19 02:06:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2370443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrightneeBee/pseuds/BrightneeBee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maggie was not a typical SHIELD agent. To be honest, she was more of an employee. After a major event happens while she is on assignment, Maggie leaves New York for the simple task of shadowing Pepper Potts. Months later, Maggie is confused by feelings for Happy Hogan, and starts thinking about leaving SHIELD for good. HappyHogan/OFC/WinterSoldier FULL SUMMARY INSIDE!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I've been rewriting and editing this around my work schedule, but hopefully I've started cleaning up the problems I was having the first time around. If you want to review/comment and let me know what you think, good or bad, feel free. I'm not doing it for the stats these days, just happy to be writing again after a very long sabbatical. I just hope you enjoy the ride. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own the characters of Marvel comics or the Marvel cinematic universe. I do not mean any copyright infringement by writing or posting this fanfiction. Please, do not sue me, Big Whig copyright lawyer people.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Please, Marvel/Disney/Stan Lee, don't sue me. 

 

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

April 2011. Los Angeles, California. Stark Industries.

Maggie Sousa was not a typical SHIELD agent.

Yes, she had been an agent, of sorts, but it had always been a loosely defined term, considering what she usually did for the top secret government agency. She had never been an excelling agent, like Coulson. She was not brilliant with a bow and her own fists like Barton. Nor was she as experienced like Romanoff. She was not even remotely as intimidating as Agent Hill, and she complete pants compared to her cousin Sharon. And lastly, she was most definitely not a strong-willed, brazen woman like her Nana, for whom she had been named. 

It was rare to see her out of a counseling session or interrogation room. More often than not, she was in between SHIELD central in New York and the Helicarrier. It was once in a blue moon that she was requested in the field, but when she was, it was universally understood that the information would pique her interest. She was a decent enough agent, all things considered, but she was inexplicably incapable of separating herself from herself from her emotions under pressure, or during moments of high stress. It made her the exact opposite of her cousin Sharon, who strived to be the best, emotionally-detached agent in the organization. 

To be honest, Maggie preferred to think that she was Nana’s favorite, mostly due to the fact that she was Nana’s only living grandchild, but also due to the fact that she had not pursued SHIELD, nor the military as a career choice, like everyone else in the Carter family. She had attended university, with the desire of non-government work after she graduated. In reality, SHIELD had come to her, and it had been extremely hilarious to Nana Peggy to see Director Fury’s reaction as Maggie turned him down, immediately. It wasn’t until Agent Coulson appeared on her grandmother’s doorstep, that Maggie even considered SHIELD as an option. Coulson managed to persuade her to give the idea a minute amount of thought, before she politely told him her answer. No. When Coulson had taken a liking to Maggie’s tenacity and determination, the man had dug his heels in and refused to give up until the socially awkward intellectual accepted the offer to join SHIELD. They offered to pay during her internship, and with a starting salary over 30,000 per year, who was she to say no? She signed a contract for 7 years, and even took up running, despite absolutely hating exercise. 

At the ripe old age of 28, Maggie graduated from Yale with several degrees of higher education on her resume. She had just started filling into her narrow build, losing the social awkwardness of spending a decade studying. Maggie had never put effort into her appearance until after joining SHIELD. Well, after Nana had made her aware that no one would take her seriously if she continued to dress in sweatpants and old shirts. 

So, on the day that she answered Fury’s knock in a vintage Ramone’s t-shirt and green sweats, hair unbrushed and simply pulled into the sloppiest ponytail the intimidating man had most likely ever seen, along with pushing the typical accessory for nerds up the length of her nose, it was very apparent that she was not what he had envisioned. All in all, she had been the polar opposite of what the Director had expected, considering she had been raised by the legendary Peggy Carter for most of her life. It had been fairly hilarious to see his reaction, if not slightly terrifying. 

She still wore the black framed, rectangle glasses that were too wide for her face, to this day, just to remind Fury of his disappointment. 

Of course, that had been close to seven years ago, and her contract was almost up. 

“I have an itinerary for the meeting in D.C., Ms. Potts, and your lunch,” said Maggie, entering the CEO’s office in her usual chipper demeanor. Putting the carry-out and leatherbound folder on Pepper’s desk as she continued to prattle on, “Your flight leaves in two hours, and Mr. Hogan is waiting outside with your bags. Is there anything else you need me to take care of before your departure?”

Pepper looked up from the computer screen with an apologetic look, “Yes, I have one more thing to ask of you, Maggie. Colonel Rhodes will be accompanying me to D.C., so you should have a pretty easy week here. If you could just work with Happy and keep an eye on Mr. Stark while I’m gone? Tony tends to cause trouble if he’s left unsupervised for more than a day. And, please, if it’s not too much to ask, speak with Happy about the badges. People are starting to complain.”

“Whatever you need, Ms. Potts,” replied Maggie, her faint British accent adding a delightful lilt to her cheerfulness. “I will persuade Mr. Hogan to relax in regards to the changes to security, and I’m certain Mr. Hogan and I can keep Mr. Stark out of the gossip pages for a week. Is that all?”

“Yes, that’s all for now. Thank you, Maggie,” smiled Pepper, grabbing her lunch and folder as she stood from the desk. “I appreciate your dedication.”

“Think nothing of it,” Maggie replied kindly, following her employer out of the office. “I am positive that everything will go swimmingly.”

She hadn’t meant it as a joke, but Pepper laughed anyway, too familiar with the ways of Tony Stark. 

As they left the office, Maggie fell a step behind Pepper, and in step with Happy as he followed suit. Walking side by side, Maggie chanced a glance at Happy, offering him a small, simple greeting. They were going on four months working together, and three months of perfecting the facade of a professional and platonic working relationship, mainly to keep the gossiping cows in Human Resources from calling it an office romance and shoving paperwork at them. It wasn’t as if they were together, more that they both found mutual enjoyment from spending time off the clock together, the same as when Maggie spent rare nights out with Pepper. 

Regarding their off-hours activities, Happy seemed very gentlemanly, and Maggie was enjoying his companionship, as a male friend not of SHIELD. Happy had introduced her to the wonder of American sports, even though she had been raised in the States. She very much liked watching baseball, and boxing, which seemed to make the man very happy. In return, she had begun introducing him to the wonder of British television. He had found Doctor Who fun to watch, but not as as interesting as Downton Abbey, which wasn’t actually a BBC aired show. He was actually obsessed with Downton Abbey, which amazed Maggie. There was something about the elegance and the dynamic of relationships from that era that pulled him in. It was interesting to observe him become so engrossed in the show, that she had found herself watching him, more than watching the telly. 

She very much liked Happy. He was enjoyable company, a wonderful friend, and delightful to be around. And he seemed to enjoy having someone who bantered and bickered with him so easily without taking offense to anything that was said. She didn’t mind the way he protected her when they watched games in his favorite pub, always stepping in between her and any possible suitors, acting the part of a significant other, but really giving her the opportunity to send the stranger away, or asking him to stay. She always sent the suitors away, preferring to listen to Happy explain the rules of whatever sport they were watching. 

After everything she had been through, it was wonderful to have a friend and a personal life outside of SHIELD. 

While Happy drove them to the Stark Industries private hangar, Maggie studied her company issued tablet, going over the move from Los Angeles to Stark Tower in New York with Pepper. She had to adjust her glasses and squint at the screen, the text in the documents doubling here and there before the words began blurring together. A shake of the head, a blink, clenching her eyes tight and trying again and again until the disturbance corrected itself, the text coming into clear focus once more. 

The strain of constantly refocusing gave her a headache, or the headache caused her to strain to refocus, either way, it started on the left side of her head and rippled through until it was a slight pressure enveloping her entire brain. It wasn’t very often that she experienced them, but they were beginning to come and go more frequently. Still, as long as they were not bad, she popped a couple of ibuprofen and they resolved over time. She was chalking it up to day-today stressors, since working for Pepper required constant interaction interaction with Tony Stark - who had only grown more arrogant and eccentric since they were children. It was also stressful dealing with the management of the company move of Stark Industries to Stark Tower. 

There was also the worry of speaking to Pepper regarding Maggie’s living arrangements. According to Mr. Stark, Maggie was banned from living in the Tower, which was fine by her, but Pepper had been standing firm that she wanted Maggie close at hand and very comfortable. As it were, Maggie refused to broach the subject while Pepper and Tony were bickering about it. She had the Brooklyn apartment Nana Peggy had given to her, and the commute to Midtown wasn’t too horrible. Besides, Maggie was secretly hoping to keep her in Los Angeles. She much preferred avoiding all the baggage that came with being so close to SHIELD headquarters, and on top of that, Maggie and Tony had never really gotten along on the few occasions they had been forced to spend time together as children. She was certain it was due to a resentment he had placed on her, which stemmed from the lack of paternal affection. 

The plane was ready to go, and Colonel Rhodes was already waiting for Pepper when they arrived. Happy helped transfer Pepper’s luggage to the cargo hold, and stood next to Maggie as they both bid Pepper and the Colonel a safe flight. There were always last minute worries from Pepper that were soothed immediately, while Maggie urged her boss onto the plane. 

When the stairs were rolled away, the door shut and sealed tight, she turned with Happy and walked back to the car. With the propellers creating a strong wind, Maggie was grateful she chose to pull her hair back into a ponytail that morning, and that she remembered her prescription sunglasses, because it was far too bright and sunny for an overcast prediction from the weatherwoman the day before. She was also admonishing herself for wearing a flimsy dress, instead of trousers, now that she was attempting to keep the skirt of it down as she walked back to the car. She did not want Happy and everyone else standing around, knowing that she was wearing Star Wars knickers. Even the thought was incredibly embarrassing. 

She could feel Happy staring at her backside while she struggled with the skirt of her dress as she got into the car. The wand caught the breezy material as she went to sit down, sending it up past her waist before she could catch it in time. Her cheeks were burning red as she sat in the front seat, snapping the seatbelt in place. They watched the plane take off in silence, while Happy struggled to keep his face from breaking out in a grin. 

When the plane was in the sky, he shifted the car into reverse, imitating Yoda, “Nice panties, those you wear.” 

“That is a horrible impression,” she replied, her blush turning a deeper red as he chuckled at his own joke. “And I’ll punch you in the bollocks if you say another word about my knickers.”

“I just said they were nice, Maggie,” Happy snickered, speeding off towards the highway. “I don’t know why you’re embarrassed, they look good on you. They’re nice panties. I’m curious to know how many you have like that. Do you have a whole collection, or just the one pair?”

“Happy?” she asked, fighting a laugh of her own. 

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking about my knickers,” she snorted, unable to contain the giggles. She spoke again when they both stopped laughing, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he said, veering off onto a ramp. 

Biting her lip, she looked over at him, and considered the ramifications of asking her question. She thought long and hard, had been for weeks, and recognized the he was driving, and that it could be a personal question that he most likely wouldn’t appreciate at this time. Technically, she asked him personal questions all the time, but she had always avoided topics that related to his feelings for anyone specific, mostly due to the fact that a large part of her was terrified to know the answer. 

This wasn’t how she usually went about things. At SHIELD, she had an office, and then she had her work space; a room with a couch and overstuffed chairs, decorated and painted in subtle, neutral tones that allowed agents to feel at ease. Sometimes she met with agents outside of headquarters, in places they felt more comfortable. She made friends with them, in a way, and allowed the time to feel completely relaxed in her presence, waiting for them to start a dialogue. It helped bridge a connection, a sense of security where nothing they shared would be considered a weakness, or an admission of fear or anger. No judgement, no questions; therapy was done on the patient’s terms. And if they requested to keep certain things off the record, she was more than happy to oblige, because that was her job. It wasn’t the job she imagined when she had graduated university for the last time, but with SHIELD paying off her student loans and footing her for an internship and residency, she couldn’t have said no. Of course, that was beside the point. 

It wasn’t as if she were pining over anyone, more that she desperately wanted to know, yet not know at the same time. Happy and she had grown close, and there was no doubt that feelings would blossom, but she had begun wondering what it would be held by him, to kiss him. She wasn’t completely naive. Maggie had experienced first dates and awkward kisses, had even had her heart broken once. It was just that Happy had taken her completely by surprise, having expected to shadow Pepper for a few months to run out the end of her contract with SHIELD, and then start her own practice, maybe work for a hospital.

But what would Happy’s lips feel like on hers?

“You’re too quiet,” said Happy, jerking her out of her own thoughts. “You okay? You were gonna ask me something?”

Well, it was now or never. 

She hid behind a nervous smile, and trudged forth, “Yes, of course. I was just wondering if you would like to come over for dinner tonight? We could watch the game, maybe?” 

She could see he was enticed. Happy loved so many different sports, and there were always games on. If she was remembering correctly, the Lakers were playing that night. There was no way Happy would miss the Lakers. Or the New York Knicks. Oh, she could pat herself on the back for remembering those names. 

“I thought you were taking first shift with Tony?” Happy asked, avoiding giving her an answer, which frustrated her beyond imagine. 

Think fast, Mags. Think fast. Salvage the situation, as Nana would say. 

“Well, now that you mention it. I was hoping you wouldn’t mind coming along after dinner? I don’t think he’s finished licking his wounds from the last time Pepper asked me to drop in on him, and I believe it would be nice for you men to spend some time together. It’s been over a month since you two have talked at length. It would be really good for you both -” 

“Why the sudden interest in me and Tony?” asked Happy, working himself up for some banter and bickering already. He was a few moments away from talking at lightspeed, which she enjoyed. Sometimes she wondered if she was one of the very few people who could understand him when he did it. And he only did it to win an argument. He even held up a finger to make points, which she always tried to stop before he began, but it never worked that way. 

“Firstly - No, no, listen.  _ Listen.  _ Firstly, you just have to give the guy a chance - you did drag him out of his lab by the ear. Secondly -  _ Secondly!  _ Why accuse me of avoiding him? I haven’t been avoiding him. I’ve just been busy, you know, with work and driving you and Pepper around, and catching games with you. He’s got a lot goin’ on, and I don’t see why you think I’m avoiding him - far from it. Like I said, I’ve just been busy-”

“Of course, you’ve been busy, but you won’t even answer when he rings,” Maggie cut in, laughing out of exasperation, and possibly frustration. How had this conversation derailed so quickly? Her head gave another unpleasant throb. “I never meant to imply...I’m just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t think…”

“What? Don’t think what?”

“I don’t want to go alone!” said Maggie, looking out the window at the passing shoreline. “I want you to come with me, if it isn’t too much of a bother!”

“After dinner?”

“After dinner, yes,” Maggie repeated, blushing and refusing to look at him. “If dinner isn’t too presumptuous.”

“You mean taking dinner to Tony? You hate cooking for him,” Happy said, changing lanes. “He always complains about your taste in food. Why not pick up pizza?”

“No, I meant,” Maggie sighed, covering the burning in her cheeks and shaking her head. “I meant, dinner...just you and I...Oh, this is so bloody embarrassing.”

“Oh,” is all he said, and then he understood. “Oh! You mean, like a date?”

“No, nevermind,” she replied, hiding her face. “I shouldn’t have presumed.”

“You mean like candles and music, no work or sports talk?” 

“Forget it,” she huffed, looking out the window with her arms crossed. “It was stupid.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!” he exclaimed, flipping on the turn signal as he merged into the left turning lane. The car slowed to a stop as the light turned red. “What do you mean forget about it? You just asked me on a date!”

“I take it back! Please, just forget I said anything.”

“No, no, no! We’re not sweeping this under the rug -”

“For the love, I wish you would!” snapped Maggie, anxiously tapping her foot against the passenger side door. “Please, forget I said anything. I’ll get pizza and check on Tony, by myself!”

He held up his hands and looked at her as if she’d lost her mind, “Why are you yelling at me? You asked me on a date and now you’re taking it back! What the hell?”

“This was not how I envisioned this conversation going at all!” She argued, hands flailing emphatically as they both tried to yell over each other, Happy turning left when the light turned green. “I thought that there may have been something - Urgh! I don’t want to talk this anymore!”

“Well, we’ll have plenty of time to talk about it over dinner tonight,” huffed Happy, changing lanes again as they reached the halfway point to Stark Industries. “And on the way to check on Tony.”

“No, I changed my mind. I don’t want you to accompany me,” Maggie snipped at him, refusing to look at anything other than the passing store fronts. “If you want dinner, you have to ask.” 

“Oh, my God, Maggie! You’re driving me crazy!”

“Well, that makes two of us!” 

Silence filled the car as Happy turned onto another speedway towards Stark Industries. Maggie was grateful that had to focus more on the road than on her, because she couldn’t bear for him to see how upset this had made her, for no reason at all. It wasn’t that she was petty. She was more embarrassed than anything else, considering her attempt at asking him on a date had taken him several minutes before he understood her meaning. It was obvious to her that he did not feel the same, and it horrified her to have to even look at him, knowing he would never feel the same. She hated that this had turned into a fight, and it was something that worried her greatly. Would he avoid her? Would he find a way to get her permanently transferred to New York? She had never had a person before, someone that could be trusted and actually listened to what she had to say. It was terrifying to think that it could all be gone now. 

With a sigh, as the silence weighed down on her, Maggie stopped biting the tip of her thumb to glance over at him. This was why she had never been a successful field agent. She was too emotionally attached to people when they got close. And the fact that she could never hold a secret under torture. She was too easy to break. 

“Bloody hell! I cannot believe you didn’t assume I was asking you on a date from the start!” She exclaimed, unable to return the silent treatment. Again, she would make a horrible field agent. She would crack under the threat of the silent treatment. She couldn’t stand knowing someone was upset with her, even if she was upset first. “I’m so confused! And you! YOU!”

“What about me!” Happy returned, merging onto another ramp. “I asked you out after your first month, and you put me in the friend zone!”

Well, she never expected that. 

“Well….You ignore Tony’s calls!”

“Because I’m spending time with you!”

“Well, why would you do that!”

“Why not?!” countered Happy, a touch offended by her reaction. “I like spending time with you! What’s wrong with that?!”

“You don’t have to spend all your free time with me, Happy!”

“Jesus, you’re missing the point, Maggie.”

“No, I’m not!”

“You’re driving me insane!” Happy yelled, weaving between cars with ease. “You are so infuriating!”

Arms still crossed, foot still tapping against the passenger door, Maggie pouted, replying in a petty, childish manner of which her grandmother would never approve, “You’re infuriating.”

They were quiet for a really long time as the city of Los Angeles blurred past them. Happy was speeding, but she had spent enough time in Coulson’s car as he sped down desert roads, it hardly bothered her. So the fact that Happy floored it a lot of the time didn’t even worry her, and she wasn’t going to ask him to slow down, mainly because she had no desire to contribute anything more to their dispute. They were both upset with each other, and stuck in a car for another ten minutes, so she would take the time to calm down until they could talk civilly. She said nothing as he turned on the radio. She didn’t bother to argue over the station as she usually did, which Happy had become so used to. She even pressed ignore as her cousin called, persistently. She just remained still, silently simmering over the oddity that was them not moving on from an argument. 

When he finally pulled into the reserved garage for company cars, they both sat in their respective seats, and stared straight ahead at nothing in particular. Maggie watched office workers enter and exit, passing by in front of the car as it sat and idled. It was incredibly uncomfortable, to say the least. She could see his fingers clenching and unclenching on the shifter between them. After another minute, Maggie caught his fingers with a gentle squeeze. She looked straight ahead at the building, while Happy’s hand tensed under hers until his fingers relaxed, flexing in her grip. She ran her hand up and down his arm until he caught her fingers and squeezed them in return, thumb rubbing circles over her knuckles in a way that made her shudder in a way that she had never experienced with anyone else. And they stared at each other, all that anger and disappointment fading away.  

They stayed like that for what seemed like an eternity, before Happy released her hand and unlocked the doors. They got out of the car and walked together to the main building in silence, again, until Maggie’s phone started ringing for the seventh time. Happy fidgeted with the keys, slowing down despite himself, while Maggie juggled the tablet and her purse until she managed to dig out her mobile. 

She answered with an exasperated tone, “Yes, my darling cousin?”

Happy was watching Maggie as she listened to her cousin on the phone, brows furrowed in confusion. She could feel his eyes following the quick procession of foot taps the more irritated she became. And he was listening carefully to how many times she took a sharp breath and rolled her eyes in the thirty seconds it took Sharon to tell her why she had been calling so persistently for the last ten minutes. And then he flinched when she stomped her heeled foot in a huff. 

“You have to call ahead, Sharon. You ran over her favorite cat the last time you popped in for a visit. I got her that cat after Grandfather passed,” Maggie ground out, becoming increasingly annoyed. “She has Alzheimer’s, Sharon, why would ever gift her a firearm?! No, if she doesn’t want visitors, then let her be. Well, that’s why you call beforehand! There’s no knowing when she’s lucid! The physicians - No, you listen to me! She is my grandmother! I am the power of attorney,a nd I will not be strong-armed or bullied into doing what you feel is best! The facility in D.C. is the best in the country!No, she is not lucid if she is calling you Dottie!”

Maggie sighed, glancing at Happy before she cut her cousin off again, “Bloody hell, Sharon! I most certainly am not signing over the flat in Brooklyn to you! She’s owned it since World War II, and she gave it to me when she moved - Oh! That is such bollocks, and you know it! She does not need to be sedated! Don’t you dare, Sharon! Sharon? SHARON!”

The line clicked and then a dial tone blared in her ear. Maggie pushed the glasses up to the top of her head and turned away from Happy to wipe the start of tears from the corners of her eyes. It was embarrassing having people witness her as she cried. She had been raised to never air her dirty laundry in public, and there she’d been, screaming at her cousin through a mobile speaker. And on top of that, it was infuriating that she had the tendency to cry when she was this upset. It was difficult dealing with Sharon in regards to Nana’s care. The woman had raised Maggie since she was a baby. It was terrifying to think that her grandmother could very possibly die sooner than she thought, or at all, and Sharon’s insistence to take over Nana’s care and the estates was just too much for Maggie to handle at this time. And when she was overwhelmed these days, she found she started to get weepy and panicked more easily. 

Pulling out a compact mirror from her purse, Maggie checked her eyes and wiped away any evidence of tears. Sliding the wide, black, rectangle frames up her nose, she adjusted them for a moment until they were comfortable and sighed aggravatedly over the conversation with Sharon. It never failed that every single time her cousin called, there would be yelling involved and someone always pulling a gun on someone. 

Maggie startled when a large hand squeezed her small shoulder, but relaxed when she recognized Happy’s voice, “Wanna talk about it?”

No, she absolutely did not at this moment. She shook her head and turned around with a smile, “Everything is fine.”

He gave her a look, “Maggie. It didn’t sound fine.”

“It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

Maggie started walking towards the main building again. Happy followed suit, tapping the badge on his chest to remind the passersby to wear them. Maggie always made sure to wear her badge around her neck, which a few people had taken to doing as well. It wasn’t what Happy had in mind, wanting the badges clipped securely on the right side of people’s chests. Unfortunately, Maggie usually had arms laden with boxes, documents, tablets and/or propositions, sometimes all four, and it was simply easier to maneuver a badge hanging from her neck. If it dangled in front of the security points long enough, she was granted access, instead of trying to juggle everything to unclip a badge. Happy rode everyone but her about the bloody badges, which she appreciated. Though, he might be afraid to push the subject with her. She could be frighteningly intimidating when it came to how she conducted business as Pepper’s executive assistant. 

As they reached the doors, Maggie looked at herself in the reflection of Happy’s sunglasses and smoothed a few stray hairs that pulled free of her ponytail at the airport. “I’ll see you tomorrow then?” asked Maggie, changing the subject. 

He nodded, taking off the sunglasses and tucking them inside his suit jacket. She nervously pushed a bit more, “Would you like me to ring you later?”

“No,” he said after a beat, holding the door open for her. “No, I think I need some time to figure out what happened today.”

Why did it feel like her soul was being crushed?

“Think nothing of it, Mr. Hogan,” she replied, cheerful and chipper, sliding back into her attitude of professionalism as they entered the office and eyes followed them. “Thank you for the ride back.”

It was his turn to slide into the mask of professionalism, as well, “My pleasure. Have a wonderful day, Ms. Sousa.” 

She nodded and they went their separate ways. 

Maggie waited for the elevator to reach the lobby, watching Happy retreat back to the Security office. She bit her lower lip and fidgeted with her hands, and there was an odd vagueness that twinged inside her chest as she uttered, “You, too, Happy…”

The elevator door dinged and slid open. 

  
  
  


_________________________

  
  
  


The Lakers were playing on the flat screen above the bar, and winning, but all Happy could think about was the first time he saw Maggie Sousa.

The sky had been overcast and gloomy all morning when she emerged from the parking garage. He was outside for his noon smoke, and there she was, an enigma with rectangle glasses and the brightest yellow sweater he had ever seen. She walked carefully around puddles in her heels, arms laden with stacks of bound files. She was breathtaking to him, despite the glasses, which had never considered an attractive quality in a woman until that afternoon.  

Actually, the glasses seemed to have added to her allure. Her long hair had been pulled back in a ponytail, and her frames appeared wider than they actually were. He remembered her hair had been a deep, rich brown, just as it was now, and her eyes an earthy green hazel with hints of light, warm brown. She had worn a black dress with vibrant flowers printed on it, tied around the waist, and her smile had brightened his day as she passed by. Literally, the clouds parted and the sun shone down on the world when her eyes focused on him for that brief moment, her lips offering him the most stunning smile he’d ever seen. Just those brief few seconds, when their eyes connected, was enough to make Happy forget about Tony and Pepper, and his life, for the rest of the day. 

Then he’d seen the nameless woman following Pepper around the next week, at ease with the routine as if she had been born to it. She was always so put together; simple hairstyle, simple makeup, and cheerful dresses, skirts, blouses and sweaters. Sometimes she wore heels, sometimes she wore flats, and yet she always looked so professional, despite the fact that she also dressed like a kindergarten teacher. At any rate, she was a breath of life after years of watching Pepper from afar - this sweet, warm, kind woman whose name he didn’t even know. He looked forward to passing her in the halls, because it seemed like she always had a special smile just for him. 

He hadn’t known if his eyes were playing tricks on him, or if she really was that chipper, but when she felt as though no one was watching, her smile would fade and she would look sad, as if there were some great burden on her shoulders that she didn’t want anyone else to see, but he did. It was almost as if she were lonely, worried, struggling, but the sadness always faded the second she felt someone looking. 

It was creepy, he knew that, to watch her so much, but he couldn’t help himself. She was alluring, and different from Pepper in every single way, and he wanted to know more. He wanted to know her, but he was just too afraid at that time to talk to her. 

Then he’d caved and accessed her employee file. 

Mary Margaret Carter Sousa, born 12 November 1976 in a hospital in Queens, and raised in Brooklyn. Graduated high school early, attended Columbia University, then Yale. Obtained a few Masters in science and technology, a medical degree with a specialty in psychiatry, and another Masters in criminal pathology, or something. Her employment history prior to Stark Industries had been confusing, but he had asked Pepper about it, burning red when she narrowed her eyes in knowing amusement. It had been something to do with SHIELD, like she was close to the end of her contract with them, or something, and she was using the last months to transition back into the real world - something like that. According to Pepper, there had been an incident, and Maggie hadn’t quite recovered from it without help. The executive assistant position was a favor to Coulson. And Pepper had made him swear to keep it to himself, making a comment, as well, about how she never thought he would break company policy in a non-work related manner. 

“She must be very special,” Pep had said with a sly smirk. 

He’d left it at that, making a note to never ask Pepper about Maggie ever again. It was bad enough the woman grinned every time he offered to drive her places when he knew Maggie would be in attendance. He didn’t know why had taken a liking to the mysterious Ms. Sousa, only that she was a break in the endless existence of failed pick up lines and bad dates. It was her presence that he craved, her smile, and it was those very things that made Happy finally gather up the courage to ask her out, which hadn’t turned out as well as he had hoped. He had been so nervous, and she had fumbled the papers in her arms before telling him she would love to have a friendly drink that night. It hadn’t even been 5 minutes and he had already been sequestered in the friend zone, apparently. And to top it off, she apparently didn’t drink much, or at all. She had sipped water all night, asking him questions about his work with Stark Industries, the Yankees, and what the rules of baseball were, which he found odd and fascinating, since she had been raised in Brooklyn. 

“Want me to top you off, sir?” asked the woman tending bar. “You look like you could use another.”

When he nodded solemnly, the bartender poured more whiskey into his tumbler, and left him to his moping. He glanced up at the scores on the television, but he couldn’t even bring himself to be outraged at how far behind the Lakers had become in the last quarter. His thoughts flitted from Maggie, to Pepper, to Tony, then back to Pepper, which always led back to Maggie. It was always Maggie. He couldn’t figure out why she assumed he had no romantic interest in her. For Christ sake, he had spent the last few months trying to break down her walls to try again. How could Maggie not see it? How could she not notice?

The hours slipped by as Happy drank three quarters of a bottle of whiskey, relishing the emotional numbness creeping through his veins as he paced himself. He couldn’t ignore the fight Maggie and he had earlier that day - well, yesterday, now that he saw the clock on the wall - but he could drink away the ability to be angered or saddened by it. He just replayed the day over in his mind, lingering on brief moments and picking through conversations, until he was drunk enough to forget what Maggie and he had been arguing about. He could still see the blush that darkened her cheeks after she got into the car at the private hangar, embarrassed about her Yoda panties. It was a surprise, considering he had been in her apartment, seen all the clothes laying on the floor, and yet never once saw a pair of her panties, anywhere. 

He even lingered on the look in her eyes when he had basically told her that he needed some space. There had been hurt there, and for a moment, he took a sadistic bit of satisfaction in knowing that she was experiencing what he did every time she put up a wall on a personal subject. It was like she was worried he would replace her now. She didn’t understand that he had been waiting for her to realize that they were more than just friends by now.

Christ, she was infuriating. She never talked about her life, or her future. She always became quiet for a little while, before the smile came back and she changed the topic. She was cheerful, friendly, completely adorable in her own quirky way, but there were moments when the walls crumbled, and he got that glimpse of something underneath. Happy knew something was going on in her life, with her, that she did not want to talk about, but she didn’t talk about anything. She didn’t talk about family or friends, or tell stories about SHIELD or tales of college. She didn’t talk about anything relevant to herself, actually. In fact, she asked questions and listened to him tell stories of his own life when topics turned personal. They had spent hours some nights talking about nothing, he realized. Television shows, sports, his family and friends, and even the shenanigans Tony and he had gotten into before Pepper became Tony’s world. 

Happy knew absolutely nothing about Maggie, to be honest, and it bothered him. 

“Sir, your phone is ringing,” said the bartender as she wiped down the counter. 

He looked over and saw the screen lit up, the sound of the ringtone barely registering as he picked up his phone. Before he answered, he nodded to her and said a sluggish, “Thanks.” She gave him a sad smile, poured one last finger of whiskey, and left him to his privacy, to which he was grateful. 

“Hogan,” he answered, sobering a tiny bit when he heard the name of the person who had called. “Phil?”

He listened to Coulson explain the situation in the vaguest sense possible. Happy felt a little green around the gills, mostly due to the fact that he had no idea what Phil Coulson was talking about. He didn’t know anything about Maggie, which meant the little Coulson said made no sense. The only thing that permeated his booze-soaked mind was the fact that Maggie was obviously still a contracted employee of SHIELD, which he already knew via Pepper. It wasn’t easy hearing that his sweet, kind, beloved-by-all Maggie was still subjective to SHIELD commands, or that she had missed her last 3 mandatory therapy sessions. 

His head was throbbing by the time Coulson wrapped up the extremely vague, nonexistent briefing on Maggie, and how Coulson wanted Happy to drag her to an appointment the next day, if she did not go willingly. By the time the call ended, Happy’s head was spinning with very little information he didn’t want to remember the next day. 

So, he marched back into the bar and called Maggie to pick  him up while he finished off the rest of the bottle of whiskey. 

 


	2. CHAPTER TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As I’m rewriting, editing and adding to this fic around my work schedule, I hope it comes across as more sincere, more realistic, and more appealing. I’m not doing this for reviews or stats, or praise - if you like it, you like it, if you don’t, you don’t - but if you want to let me know how you feel, or what you think, just drop a line. I’m just happy to be writing again after a very long sabbatical.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. Marvel/Disney/Stan Lee, please, don’t sue me.

 

  
  


CHAPTER TWO

 

Maggie was flipping pancakes at the stove when Happy stumbled through the curtains separating her bedroom from the living room. He looked as though he hadn’t slept enough, but at least he didn’t have that sickly complexion anymore. She assumed he hadn’t drank too much before she picked him up, but the bartender had advised her that he had downed an entire bottle of whiskey. It was easy to stifle a laugh as he kept colliding with walls and tripping over her clothes on the floor, or the stools lined up along the opposite side of the counter. 

She watched him stop as he entered the kitchen, rubbing his eyes and squinting as he looked around. He settled on the french press first, then his gaze moved to the stove. For a moment, Maggie just went about lifting the pancakes off the griddle and onto a plate on the counter. She turned off the stove and placed the plate with the stack of fluffy deliciousness next to the plate of eggs and bacon. She wasn’t even self-conscious about the fact that she was wearing a baggy shirt that reached down to her thighs, no bra, and the only pair of sleeping shorts she owned. In her mind, it was hardly scandalous, and he was hungover, too blinded by the lights in the living room to notice her in such a state of undress. Besides, it was seven minutes past six in the morning, she hadn’t expected him to be awake so soon. Especially, since she had picked him up from the bar at two ‘o’clock in the morning. She had thought to wake him up by wafting the incredible scent of a steaming cup of coffee under his nose, and two Aleves to help with the headache. It was what she was used to doing on the occasion she slept on his couch, but she never had a person, friend or family, stay the night in any place she had lived. Even as a child, she had never experienced the social acceptance of an invitation to a sleeping over party, or whatever they were called. Sometimes Sharon and her parents would stay for a visit with Nana, but Maggie couldn’t count that as a sleepover since her cousin and she had never really gotten along. Maggie just hid in her room until they were gone. 

So, to be honest, Maggie wasn’t exactly aware of what to do, other than making breakfast. She hadn’t known what to do when she got Happy to her flat, either. Did she give him the sofa? The bed? Did she let him strip his clothes off and sit in the shower, like he had tried to do the second they walked through the door? 

In the end, she relied on what she would do at his place when she would drive him home from the pub. She helped him strip down to his briefs, blushing as she always did, and guided him to bed. Of course, this time she placed a bucket next to him on the off-chance he felt sick. 

And now she was making him breakfast to soak up any remaining alcohol still in his system, though she had never made him pancakes before, due to the fact that he never had anything more than beer, pizza, and eggs in his fridge. 

And she was very aware of the fact that this wasn’t the first time she had seen him in his skivvies. 

Happy was blinking rapidly and looking around again; coffee, stacks of food, her bare legs. Coffee machine, her bare legs, food, her bare legs, food. 

Then his gaze settled on her. 

“You’re not wearing sweatpants,” he slurred, sluggishly, pointing at her legs. 

“I am, you just can’t see them,” Maggie replied, aware that she should not be this comfortable in so little clothes, in the presence of a man who wasn’t her boyfriend, nor her husband. Yet, she was very comfortable with Happy, despite the fact that he continued to stare at her legs, which wasn’t much of a bother. Part of her liked that he was looking at her legs, it was flattering, and it gave her hope that perhaps they could both put aside their stubbornness. 

She offered him a shy smile, “I can turn the lights off if that will help? You must have a raging headache. And I can put some pants on, if you’d prefer?”

He stammered a bit, a redness creeping up his neck as she buttered his pancakes and drizzling them in syrup. He groaned, running a tired hand through his short curls, leaning his elbows on the counter, and Maggie couldn’t help but watch his biceps flex. With a shake of her head, Maggie took some bacon and crumbled it over his pancakes, remembering how he liked them from the last time they’d had breakfast with Pepper. She had watched him intently as he broke apart his bacon - extra, extra crispy - and sprinkled it over the pancakes with precision. She did the same now that she knew, wanting him to feel as at home as possible, since she didn’t know if they were still upset with each other, or moving past it. 

She placed a steaming cup of coffee and two Aleves in front of him before she handed him his plate of food, fork and knife included. Dimming the lights in the kitchen and living room, Maggie collected her own plate of pancakes and settled herself on the couch, refusing to acknowledge her attempt at checking in on Tony the night before. Not even an irate Pepper calling the man had gotten Maggie past the gate. 

Before she managed to get the first bite in, the kettle on the stove finally started whistling, which made Happy cringe and Maggie sigh. Setting the plate on her messy coffee table, she hurried to turn the burner off and move the kettle away from the heat. She poured herself a mug of steaming water, and dropped a bag of Twinings earl grey, in which she relished the aroma of bergamot that exploded into the air. She could feel Happy’s gaze on her as the tea steeped until it was the perfect shade, before tossing the bag into the trash and settling back onto the couch without so much as a word to him. 

He watched her with a curiously guarded expression, as if he were contemplating something and finding it incredibly difficult to actually put it into words. Then he returned to staring at his pancakes and sipping his coffee when he noticed she had caught him staring. Of course, she might have been stealing glances, too. 

It was unnerving, in a way, to have so much silence between them. It was awkward and tense, and she did not appreciate it in her home. She had no idea what to say to him, other than offer him what he needed, because she knew he must feel awful. To be honest, if he hadn’t called her last night, and he hadn’t been just a block away at the pub, she would have just taken him to his place and left after he was tucked in. Yet, he had been just a block away, and she had been too tired to drive to the pub, so she just walked. She had taken his keys and slowly drove to her place since it was so close. She had even pressed his suit after he had fallen asleep, it was hanging on a hook in her bathroom, and it was still warm. 

After all that was squared away, she had paced between the kitchen and the living room, before she finally settled on the couch, watching the telly and reviewing the latest medical results for her grandmother, the surgical reports and other evaluations from her own medical care eight months prior. Just a normal, ordinary night for her, and it wasn’t unusual for her to skip a night or two, or three, of sleep these days. There was a lot keeping her up at night, and sometimes it was just easier to forego sleep altogether, but the real reason for her lack of sleep was the monumental headache she had been nursing since her failed attempt to check in on Tony. A borderline migraine and intermittent moments of blurred, double vision had ruined her chances of getting any sleep whatsoever. 

“You remembered how I like my pancakes,” muttered Happy, staring at her in what could only be shock, or awe, as she finished off her first pancake. He almost looked astonished. “You remembered.”

She looked at him, wide-eyed and nervous, “Why wouldn’t I?”

It seemed to throw him for a loop, but he seemed very happy with her answer, in a way. The corner of his mouth quirked into a serene smile as he used his fork to cut into his pancakes. He even made a noise in his throat as he ate, obviously enjoying the food. It made her happy to see him happy. 

“How are you feeling this morning?” she asked, consciously softening her voice to avoid irritating his headache. She didn’t look at him, but she hoped her tone portrayed a sense of compassion and concern, because she did genuinely want to know. 

She head him swallow, and his reply was gruff with sleep, “Hungover, but it could be worse.”

“How so?” 

“I could be home alone,” he said quietly around a bite of food.

She really didn’t know what to say to that, so she chose to ignore it completely. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, like a log,” he replied, scratching his head. “It’s weird though. For a little bit, it was like someone was in bed with me.”

Oh, shit. 

“Well, you did drink an entire bottle of whiskey,” Maggie shrugged, watching the morning news on mute. “Maybe it was a very...vivid dream.”

“Yeah, a dream,” he said. “Must have been.” 

“Most definitely a dream,” muttered Maggie around a mouthful of banana. “Otherwise, it would just be creepy.” 

“Not creepy,” Happy replied, gathering his plate and settling on the couch next to her. “Never creepy.”

Maggie nodded, trying to act innocent as she shifted to give him room, balancing her plate on the arm of the couch. She sipped her tea, eyes glued to the telly as the weather report began with a forecast of rain in the afternoon. Happy and she ate in silence, neither of them able to find anything to say as the news rolled over to a Saturday morning cartoon. As the minutes passed by, Maggie’s migraine worsened, and her eyes started to close, exhausted. 

“Did you sleep at all?” Happy asked, startling her enough to jerk up before she dozed off. “You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“I have a migraine that doesn’t seem to want to leave,” Maggie yawned, covering her mouth with her arm. “I’ll be fine.”

He fixed her with a look, “You don’t look fine, Maggie. It’s your home, you should take something and get some sleep.”

“I took Aleve a few hours ago, it just doesn’t seem to be working,” she offered him a smile, in the hopes that it would placate him. “And I have a few things today that I really can’t reschedule, but I’ll get plenty of rest tonight, I promise.” 

“Are you going to be up for Tony again tonight without sleep?”

“I’ll be fine,” she replied, finishing off her breakfast and downing the last of her tea. “I’ve done this before. It’s not the first time I’ve pushed through with no sleep.”

“It’s not healthy, Maggie,” countered Happy, looking almost pained at her stubbornness. “You need sleep.” 

“You’re not going to be up for Tony again tonight like that.”

“I will be fine,” she deflected, leaving her plate and cup on the coffee table. “I’ll sleep, tonight, after I check on Tony.” 

He looked as though he might prefer to push the subject further, but he let it go for the moment. He chose another topic instead, with a hesitant tone, but he tried, “So, you have things to do today? Appointments? Speed dating and lunch dates?”

“I have an appointment,” she replied, shifting again on the couch as she fought another yawn. “And why would I need to speed date when I’d rather have lunch with you?”

He chuckled nervously, looking as though it were a ridiculous thing to do, “Yeah, why speed date.” And then he perked a little, “So, did you want me to come with you? To the appointment? I could drive, and we could have lunch after. My treat.”

Her head was still throbbing, but it seemed less horrible with the offer of a day with Happy - and lunch, she loved lunch with Happy. He knew all the best restaurants, and he was always amazing company. There wasn’t anyone else in the world that she would rather have lunch with. It would be a welcome distraction from the errands and the appointment, but unfortunately she didn’t want to burden him, considering the nature of her appointment. 

“I wouldn’t want to bore you with it all. Besides, you have oversight review today,” she said, hoping he wouldn’t press on. He looked as though he wanted to push more. “I can swing by work at lunch. We can get ice cream. You love ice cream for lunch.”

“I can call out,” he offered, refusing to let it go. “I have sick time I can use -”

Maggie reached out and fingered a short curl sticking up at an odd angle from Happy’s hairline, tucking it back in with the rest of his bedhead. “You don’t have to call out. Go to work. I’ll be fine. It’s just a couple silly appointments.”

“Like doctor appointments?”

“Sort of,” she replied, with a sigh. “More like therapy, and test results.”

“Therapy?”

She hadn’t retracted her hand from his hair, fingers combing the messy curls back from his forehead as she smiled. A genuine smile, because, for some reason, and despite the awful migraine and lack of sleep, she was genuinely happy and at ease with telling him the truth about this one thing. Being in his presence somehow made her feel safe, included, and blissful. This was the epitome of finding home. It was...magical. 

Happy mimicked her actions, lifting a hand to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and then he sighed. He nodded, his fingers lingering on that lock, while she continued to comb his curls back. They smiled at each other, existing in the moment for as long as possible, and for their own, personal and selfish reasons. She did not want this to end, but unfortunately her appointment was in two hours, and Happy couldn’t come with her. He needed to get to work. Yet, she didn’t want to be the one to end it. She didn’t want to send him away. 

“Happy?” murmured Maggie, leaning closer so her fingers could play with the curls on the nape of his neck. She bit her lip when he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. 

“Hmm?” was his reply, soft, subtle, while he was lost in the sensation of her nails grazing his scalp. And then he tensed when she pressed against him, wrapping her arms over his shoulders and curling in his lap. “Maggie?”

She breathed in the hint of his cologne clinging to his white shirt, almost hidden under the smell of whiskey laced sweat and the minute, lingering scent of smoke. She buried her face in the crook of his shoulder, holding onto him as if this were the last time she could ever be this close. She couldn’t help but think, or know, that this was what home felt like. 

“Maggie?”

“I apologize for being childish yesterday,” she murmured, fighting another yawn. “Tell me that we’ll be okay?”

Happy nodded, relaxing back into the couch and embracing her in return. He held her tightly, and close, his hands splayed low on her back. One of his thumbs rubbed circles against her tailbone, and she shivered and shuddered in his lap from just that simple touch. It ignited something her that she rarely experienced, hadn’t felt in a long time. It was stronger, the twinge in her stomach, the way it spread through her so quickly was powerful, in a sense. She never wanted to let him go. She didn’t want this to end, ever. 

“I was an idiot. I should apologize, and I do,” he said, pulling away enough to look her in the eyes, and, my, did he have the warmest brown eyes. “You and me? And argument hasn’t broken us, ever. We’re always gonna be okay.”

“Truly?” asked Maggie, pressing her forehead against his with a watery grin. “Always?”

“Always.” 

They stayed like that for an eternity, foreheads touching, eyes closed, noses brushing against each other with every shuddered breath. Still cupping his face, her thumb stroking over his morning stubble, Maggie, spontaneous as a traditional Brit in her exhaustion, nudged his nose on purpose, and gasped, startled, when Happy’s mouth moved over her own. He tasted like maple syrup and bacon, and his stubble scratched against her skin, but she could care less about trivial details. The kiss started gentle, hesitant, but as Maggie relaxed into it, after the initial surprise, Happy grew more emboldened. His lips moved more urgently, with purpose and passion, and Maggie responded, relishing in the sensation of his hands on her hips and his tongue moving against hers in a seductive dance that left her breathless. She tingled from head to toe, her fingers vibrating as she tangled them in his hair, back arched into him. 

Maggie yelped when he lifted her until her legs wrapped around his waist, and then when he stood with her in his arms, aware that he was that strong, but never having experienced the weightlessness of a man lifting her, ever. She clung to him, shivering as he kissed her neck and shoulder, while one hand cupped her arse and the other pressed between her shoulder blades to hold her in place, safe and steady. She gasped and moaned at his touch, when his lips found a sensitive spot below her ear. It was a shock to her system, adding fuel to the fire, and she realized then where Happy was taking her, just as he carried her through the curtain blocking off her bedroom. 

“Happy,” she breathed, trembling with the desire to be ravished by him, but also nervous and ill-prepared for it, as well. She had never gone this far with anyone before, never felt a man’s erection pressed against her pelvis, or experienced such a level of arousal that she believed herself to be floating. Yet, she wasn’t ready, not yet. It was moving too fast, and she wanted her first time symbolic, special. She shook her head, pulling away from his lips, realizing that, in the span of a few seconds, they had tumbled into her bed. “St-stop. Please. Happy...Happy, stop.”

He jerked back quickly, hands pushing locks of hair away from her face, eyes apologetic and surprised, “Sorry. I thought this would be more comfortable for you.”

“No, no,” she said, leaning up to kiss him quickly, one more time. “I really like kissing you, I do. It’s just that I’ve never…”

“Made out?” he asked, confused on where she was going with the conversation. 

She shook her head again, hiding being a shy blush and nervous smile, “I’ve never gone this far with anyone before.”

“This far?” And then it dawned on him, and he pulled away altogether to sit on the edge of the bed, face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, Maggie. I would never -”

“Shh,” was her reply. She got to her knees and cupped his chin to make him look at her. “I want to, more than anything, but I also want it to be more meaningful than a shag the morning after we’ve argued. Does this make any sense?”

He smiled that goofy smile that she adored, and nodded, “Yeah, it makes perfect sense. Jesus, we haven’t even been on one date, yet.”

“Well, that can be easily remedied,” Maggie grinned, kissing him chastely before getting up. He reached up and caught her fingers, trying to pull her back for one more kiss, but she gently tugged on his hand in return. “Come on, you need a shower. I’ll make you another cup of coffee.”

Happy nodded with a sigh, “I guess I do need to go to work.” 

Maggie readied the bathroom for him, turning on the shower and pulling out a large, fluffy green towel from the linen closet. She left aloe scented shaving gel and a fresh pink razor on the counter next to the sink, and left him to it. 

While Happy showered, Maggie rummaged through her dresser for a simple outfit. Most of her clothes were brightly colored dresses and mismatched cardigans, but she did have casual jeans and sweaters that she rarely wore. There, at the very bottom, was the black, off-the-shoulder, stretch knit sweater Sharon had given her as a graduation gift. In another drawer, she found her favorite pair of jeans, wearing at the knees, but still no holes in 7 years. They were frayed around the bottom hems, but she knew they would be comfortable. It was different from what she usually wore, but maybe different was what she needed today.

Maggie sat cross-legged on the floor in her makeshift bedroom and brushed her hair, braiding it over her shoulder when Happy emerged from the bathroom. He was dressed, looking as dashing as ever. She could see his reflection in the mirror propped against a wall, smiling at him as she tied off the messy braid. She applied mascara and a lip balm before sliding her glasses back on, getting up from the floor. He gave her an odd look before disappearing to the kitchen, leaving her to get dressed. 

Nana Peggy once told her that there was nothing a woman couldn’t accomplish while wearing lipstick. What Maggie realized, which had taken 15 years to understand, was Nana wasn’t talking about wearing war paint, it was the routine of putting her best face forward and soldiering on. It forced her to believe everything would be okay, because that was what Nana Peggy had raised her to do. And now routines were her safety net. Routines were comforting, which was why Maggie thrived as Pepper’s personal assistant. There was a day-to-day routine in daily operations, and managing Pepper’s schedule, which satisfied her enough to be happy with the abrupt life change. She wasn’t using her degrees, wasn’t seeing patients or interrogating persons of interest. She was just an assistant, fetching coffee and scheduling meetings. It was normal. It was ordinary and safe. 

Grabbing a purse, she shoved her phone, keys and wallet inside, passing through the curtains separating her bedroom from the living room in her loft. A cup of coffee wouldn’t hurt to keep her going for the day. Unfortunately, change always begot change, and she sucked in a breath, stopping in her tracks, when she saw Happy sitting on the couch, looking through the medical records she had forgotten were on the coffee table. He was on the phone, telling someone he wouldn’t be in to work for the day - something had come up. She listened, edging closer to the back of the couch to see which records he was looking at while he gave a list of things to check on, asking that he be updated throughout the day. He didn’t hear her bag dropping to the floor. 

“Stop reading those,” Maggie exclaimed, leaving her purse where it fell as she . “They’re private-”

“I gotta go. I’ll call you back,” said Happy, standing with one of the files in hand before she made it around the couch. He tried to stop her, but she ducked, grabbing up the papers. “Maggie-”

“These are private,” she said, sniffling slightly. “I should have never left these out. I’m so bloody stupid-”

“Maggie...” 

“No,” she shook her head, refusing to look at him, focusing more on collecting the papers as they fell to the floor. “I shouldn’t have left them out. I should have remembered to put them away. It was stupid-”

“Maggie, you’re not stupid,” said Happy with a sigh, holding her wrists to stop her from grabbing at more of the papers. “Maggie, look at me. Come on, look at me.” 

It was like being trapped under that building all over again; the pressure in her chest, reality shattering around her, the ringing in her ears. She could hear the clanking of metal, feel each heavy step grow closer and closer, knowing what was about to happen, and knowing there was nothing she could do to stop it. She could feel the comfort of her control slipping away, the room beginning a slow, spiraling descent as she watched the papers slip off the little table to the floor. She had been careless, leaving the records out. It was as if she had been asking for him to take a look, and now he knew. 

He knew. 

Happy was kneeling on the floor with her, large hands holding her small wrists, speaking calmly and softly to her. It was as if he was trying to soothe her. Why was he being so nice? Why was he acting like he understood and accepted this? Why wasn’t he yelling at her for keeping this a secret? 

“Maggie, you’ve got a nosebleed, and you’re hyperventilating. Breathe-”

She shook her head and clenched her eyes, “Shouldn’t have left them out,” she cried, struggling to breathe. “I’m just so tired, and I can’t...sleep. I can’t sleep. I can’t sleep...Can’t sleep, can’t sleep, can’t sleep-”

“Maggie, look at me!” 

Happy yelled at her, finally, taking her by the shoulders and giving her a shake. There was something in his tone that made her look at him, and there was something in his eyes that made her quiet, save for the occasional gasp for air. He had her. He was holding her steady and keeping eye contact as she fought to control her breathing. His touch was comforting, his gaze was reaffirming, and it made her feel more in control and less like the floor was about to swallow her whole. He wasn’t angry at all, more concerned than anything else she could have imagined. It was worse, in a sense, to be looked at as if she were a fragile little bird. Yet, he wasn’t looking at her as though she were crazy. He was looking at her as if he wished he could make all her worries melt away. 

“Your grandmother is really sick, Maggie,” said Happy, handing her back the chart. It was a copy of her grandmother’s most recent cognitive exam. “You never talk about her, I had no idea. You could have told me. You didn’t have to deal with this alone.” 

She felt as though she might float away with relief. He had just read Nana’s records. He hadn’t even made it to her own. She could have jumped for joy if he hadn’t been there to witness how uncoordinated she could be. Instead, she took the file and hugged it to her chest, still hyperventilating and looking thoroughly ashamed and apologetic, “I didn’t...I didn’t want to burden anyone.”

“That’s the thing, Maggie,” Happy sighed, pulling her onto his lap. “I’m here. I’ve always been here. It’s not a burden to tell me things.”

Happy pulled her up on the couch before plucking a tissue out of a box on the coffee table, pulling her against his side as she sniffled. She dabbed at the dried blood and enjoyed the feel of Happy at her side. She enjoyed the feel of his hand rubbing her shoulder and the rise and fall of his chest. She could hear the faint thump of his heart beat and the sound of each breath filling his lungs, and she found it oddly comforting. Her tears started to subside, and her breathing slowed to normal, shallow breaths. Her hiccups were gone. Her head was killing her, but at this point all she could do was weather the storm. It didn’t seem like it would be horrible as long as she could stay here in this moment with Happy. 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead and squeezed her shoulder, murmuring something about getting some sleep. She was so tired, and he said he agreed. She hadn’t noticed that she’d said it out loud. She argued about her appointments, but he said they could wait. Coulson be damned. And then he cringed and asked if she thought her apartment had been bugged - had Coulson heard that?

It made her laugh. Coulson be damned. It sounded about right. She told him that her apartment wasn’t bugged, otherwise Coulson would be calling right now. It made him laugh, a rich timbre and robust sound that made her squirm to press closer into his side until he pulled her onto his lap completely. He held her close and stood, shushing her when she protested. He would hear none of it. She needed sleep more than she needed test results, he said. Therapy could wait, everything could wait. He called out to make sure she was okay, so she needed to hush and let him take care of her. When she protested about sleeping in her day clothes, he said he wouldn’t look. He said he’d sleep on the couch, but she asked him to stay, told him to stay. She didn’t want him to go. He was comforting and warm, and when she was with him everything felt better - everything was better. 

He set her down on the edge of the bed, and reached to help her pull off her cardigan, but she stopped him with a trembling hand. 

“Turn off the lights,” she whispered, giving his hand a squeeze. “Please.”

He did so without question, which she appreciated. In the dark, they both undressed, unable to see each other clearly, save for their blurry outlines. Maggie always left her sleeping things on top of the trunk at the end of her bed. She left her clothes in a pile on the floor and shimmied into an oversized shirt and the tattered, green sweatpants she’d had for years. By the time they were both situated under the covers, staring at each other, in the dark, across the vast expanse of her bed, they were both exhausted, again. 

Yet, despite being exhausted, Maggie couldn’t sleep. Without her glasses, everything was just black fuzz and indiscriminate shapes, but she knew Happy was two feet away, and she watched him get comfortable, crooking his elbow and sliding his arm under the pillow. A breath twisted in her chest, and she waited until he fell asleep, until his face relaxed and his breathing slowed to a steady pace before Maggie dared to move. It was just a wiffle, just a few inches closer to him. When he didn’t wake up, she moved a little closer still, and soon she was as close as she could be; head resting upon his arm, hand resting on his chest, legs nestled against his thighs. With a deep breath, she inhaled his scent and smiled against the crook of his shoulder. He smelled of her shampoo and warm summer days. It made her feel a touch less worried and her future a little more bright. It helped her drift off quickly as Happy shifted in his sleep, arms enclosing around her.

On the brink of sleep, Maggie could have sworn she felt him press a kiss to the top of her head...

 


End file.
